A Lover Without Indiscretion
by Mara Greengrass
Summary: Thomas Hardy: A lover without indiscretion is no lover at all. Circumspection and devotion are a contradiction in terms. Bart


TITLE: A Lover Without Indiscretion   
CONTINUITY: Call it early Teen Titans (v.3), if you have to pin it down.   
NOTES: Written for Minervasolo as part of the 2005 JBBS challenge. Thanks to Lovellama for the beta.

Tim threw himself to the right with all his strength, barely avoiding the flame that shot past him and the small fires still burning in the room. Rolling, he came up with a batarang in his hand.

The living flame oozing toward him laughed like a crackling campfire. "You think that toy will stop me?"

"No," Tim said. He snapped the batarang at the ceiling, breaking off a sprinkler head and dousing the area in water.

"Aaaa!" The creature fizzled.

"But that will put you out." Tim ran for the window, leaping onto the ledge to see how the rest of the team was doing.

A yellow blur sped up the side of the building. "I've been thinking," Bart said as he picked Tim up.

"Yes?" They skidded to a stop on the roof, where three dinosaurs circled Cyborg.

Bart grabbed one end of a decel line from Tim and sped around the legs of the nearest dinosaur. "I've been thinking about us," he said as the startled animal yelped and fell over with a thud.

"Us?" Tim stared at his blurry boyfriend. "This isn't the best time!"

"Huh?" Bart paused for an instant. "Oh. Okay." He dashed over to help Cyborg, and as all three dinosaurs were subdued, he reappeared at Tim's side. "It's just that we've never been on a date."

Ducking, Tim threw a batarang at a winged harpy diving out of the sky. She shrieked, plummeting toward the roof. "Date?" Tim felt a headache starting. "Can we think about this later?"

Bart nodded and sped off down the side of the building. A date? Tim thought as he automatically catalogued the remaining threats. Just when he thought his life couldn't get any weirder.

Shaking his head, Tim shot a line and swung down to help Cassie secure a cheap Cheetah knockoff.

* * *

Once the fight was over, the Titans returned to the Tower. Tim went to patch himself up, knowing Bart would find him.

Sure enough, as Tim was eyeing a particularly annoying gash on the back of his left arm, a breeze nearly blew all the medical supplies off the table. Tim stood very still, knowing what was coming.

In an instant, there was a moment of pain, a wet feeling, a bandage wrapped carefully around his arm, and the medical supplies were all neatly stowed. Bart slowed to normal speed, poked once at the bandage, and glared at Tim, hands on his hips. "You got hurt again."

"Not all of us have access to the Speed Force."

Bart frowned. "I know that."

Sighing, Tim rubbed his eyes, trying to remember when he'd last had four hours of sleep. "I'm sorry. It's just been a long day. Days."

Bart darted in and kissed him. "I'm sorry too."

The feather-light touch from Bart was as soothing as ever. "So," Tim said as he put his uniform back together, "you wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes. Can we talk now?" Bart's yellow eyes were wide.

"Sure." He really wanted to sleep, but if it was so important to Bart, sleep could wait a little longer. "Your room or mine?"

"Yours."

Bart's hands opened and shut a few times, an obvious sign he wanted to pick Tim up and carry him, but they'd had a stern conversation about doing that in non-  
combat situations.

They finally got to Tim's room, Bart vibrating so much the floor shook. Tim sank onto the bed after stripping off his cape and armor. His eyes threatened to slip closed, but he forced them open. "Yes?"

Bart paced back and forth, visibly slowing himself to almost-human speed. "It's just that we've never been on a date. We don't do," he waved his hand in the air, "date things, romantic things." He stopped and looked at Tim. "You've never brought me flowers."

Tim's head spun. "I didn't know you wanted flowers."

"I don't. That's not the point." Bart went back to pacing.

"Then what is the point? We eat together, we watch movies together." It'd been a while, but he was pretty sure those were date things.

Bart's foot tapped a staccato rhythm and he turned away staring out the window. "We eat and talk about battle tactics. We watch movies with Kon. That doesn't count."

Tim dragged himself out of bed to stand behind Bart, reaching around to hold him. "I'm sorry I don't have enough time for you."

Bart leaned back. "I know. That's not the problem."

Tim's headache got worse and he let go. "What is the problem? I need you to be clear, Bart. I don't have the time or energy to play games."

In an instant, Bart stood by the door. "Oh, we're just playing games? It's nice to know what you think of our relationship. I'm glad we got that sorted out."

And he was gone, the door shaking on its hinges.

Tim's legs gave out and he sat down on abruptly on the floor. What the heck had just happened?

Perhaps he should try and find Bart?

Hell. Bart could be anywhere by now. And if Tim didn't get some sleep, he was going to collapse. Tomorrow. Tomorrow they'd talk and sort this whole thing out.

Yawning, Tim managed to stand up and stagger to the bed.

* * *

Although Tim usually woke instantly, for once he found his head confused. Bart. Something about Bart.

Blinking he washed his face with cold water. Right. Find Bart and figure out what was going on.

A half-hour of katas and Tim felt almost human as he ventured into the main living areas.

Leaning his head around a corner, he found Cassie and Mia, heads bent over a magazine. "Hey," he said, "have you seen Bart?"

"Why do you want to find him?" Cassie asked, looking up with an expression usually turned on supervillains or bad pepperoni pizza.

Tim was rather taken aback. "I need to talk to him. Have you seen him?"

"Maybe we have. Maybe we haven't." Cassie sniffed and Mia closed the magazine. In unison, they rose. "If he wants to talk to you, I'm sure he can find you."

Mia glared at him and the two girls left the room.

Okay, now things were really getting weird. Had he been dumped into another alternate universe? Maybe the best thing to do was just to get some work done and wait for Bart to come back.

Tim's head bent over the console as he updated the Titans files to reflect their most recent missions. Absently, he noted quiet footsteps coming down the hall. "Hey, Kon," he said without looking up.

He typed in a quick update on Hawk and Dove, then saved, before he realized Kon had neither left nor said something.

Glancing over his shoulder, Tim found Kon--arms crossed and a scowl on his face-  
-waiting for him. "Uh, can I help you?"

"What did you do to Bart?"

In a moment, Tim was out of his seat, reports forgotten. "Where is he?"

"For now, he's gone, but he was just in the kitchen working on his second pint of Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey." Kon glared harder at him. "He won't talk to anyone and he sat still for almost twenty minutes. What did you do?"

"I..." Tim took a deep breath and reined back the adrenaline of worry. "Why would you think I did anything?"

"Christ on a crutch, freaky stalker boy," Kon rolled his eyes, "maybe because you've been dating him for, oh, the last month?"

"He told you?"

"No, he didn't have to."

"But we were--"

"Trying to be discreet?" Kon was briefly amused. "You do realize that the words 'Bart' and 'discreet' in the same sentence are almost entirely impossible, right?"

Tim let out a huff of breath. "Who knows?"

"Everybody. Well, all the Titans, but--we're getting off-topic here. I want to know what you did to make Bart sad."

"I didn't do anything! Everything was going fine and now he's mad at me."

"Well, you must have done something."

Tim growled. "Why do you assume it's my fault?"

"Are you telling me it's not?"

"I'm telling you," Tim said very softly, "that it's not your business. It's between Bart and me."

Kon took a step forward. "It's my business if you hurt Bart."

Tim shook his head and sat back down. "I'm not discussing this with you."

"Way to retreat. I have no idea why Bart puts up with you." Kon stomped out of the room, deliberately making extra noise on the floor.

Tim rested his head in his hands.

* * *

Tim buried himself in the depths of the Titans storage room, sorting shuriken and energy weapons, hoping the mindless work would help his brain sort things out. It wasn't working especially well, but things were much tidier when a green lizard slithered around a pile of boxes.

Tim frowned at the lizard. "Yes?"

The lizard morphed into Gar, who hopped up onto a box and stared at him. "I'm impressed."

Tim didn't move.

"You've managed to piss everyone off, but I'm a little unclear what's going on."

"Really." Tim used Batman's most dismissive tone, the one that said 'Continue with this line of questioning and you'll find out if I'm serious about that no killing thing.'

Unfortunately, Gar was completely impervious to that tone. "Well, Kon's muttering, Cassie and Mia are plotting, Vic and Kory are pretending they don't know anything, and Bart looks sad. I'm assuming that the last one's the important part."

"You've seen Bart?"

Gar waved Tim back. "He's gone again. No hurry."

Tim growled and turned back to his inventory.

"When I signed up for this mentor thing, they forgot to tell me it included providing dating advice. I suppose I should have known, though, considering how much time I spent listening to Nightwing moan about Kory and Batgirl and who knows how many others."

Tim glared down at a box of bandages. He'd lost count and now he had to start again and was there anything more annoying than someone interrupting counting?

Well, there was someone trying to give you advice on your love life.

Tim glared over his shoulder at Gar, who had turned into a bat and was hanging upside down off an exposed pipe. "I don't need your help."

The bat squeaked a few times in what sounded like amusement then turned back into Gar. "Uh-huh."

"I don't." Turning, Tim put his hands on his hips. "Somehow I've handled my love life this far without everyone's assistance."

"How's that going?" Gar asked, leaning forward.

Tim just glared.

Shrugging, Gar jumped off the box. "If you change your mind, my door's always open."

Blanking his mind, Tim went back to counting.

The weekend ended with a fizzle and Bart still hiding, abetted by pretty much everyone else on the team. A miserable Tim returned to Blüdhaven, hoping to come up with something clever.

* * *

Tuesday night, with Bart returning neither his e-mails nor his calls, Tim found himself perched atop the Blüdhaven Museum of Science and Technology with a visiting Nightwing. As they waited, Tim pondered his dilemma.

"What's up, little brother?"

"Hmm?"

When Tim looked over, Dick had given up any pretense of watching the museum and was studying him. "The only person I know who's better at surveillance than you is Batman, so why are you jumpier than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs?"

Tim blinked. "A what in a what?"

"Never mind that." Waving a hand, Dick dismissed his bizarre phrase. "What's bothering you?"

He could tell him. He could just blurt it out. Like other people did.

Sure he could. And then he'd start writing an advice column for lovelorn superheroes.

"Nothing's wrong." He turned back to staring at the museum's dingy gray marble and the shadows that might turn into Joker's goons at any moment.

Silence reigned for a few minutes, until Dick sighed. "What's up with you and Bart?"

"Nothing! Nothing's wrong."

Tim's excellent peripheral vision showed Dick's arms crossed and an impressive glare on his face.

"Um, how did you know?"

Dick's lip quirked slightly. "Beast Boy called me. I was just hoping you'd tell me without being prodded. So, what went wrong?"

"I..." Tim paused. "I don't know. Everything was fine and now he's mad at me." After a deep breath, Tim gave up any pretense at self-sufficiency. "What do I do?"

"I'm afraid there's only one simple answer: You need to talk to him. That's the whole point."

As he went back to staring at the museum, Tim frowned. What was the whole point? Why couldn't anyone explain things clearly?

This whole romance thing was just too unclear. How did anyone stand it? He was just going to have to find someone willing to help him translate Bartese.

* * *

It took half an hour of staring at the phone, but Tim finally steeled himself and dialed.

"Hello?"

"Um, Wally? It's Tim. Tim Drake."

A split-second of silence. "Tim? Why are y--uh, hi. What's up? Is something wrong with Bart?"

"Oh god." Tim banged his head against the nearest wall. "You too? Is there anyone in the entire United States who didn't know?"

"Know what?"

Tim slumped down against the wall so he could hit his head as frequently as necessary.

"Tim? What's that sound?" Wally sounded worried. "Is this about you and Bart?"

So this is what it felt like to have your brain explode. He'd always wondered. "Never mind. It's nothing."

"Sooo...Bart's okay."

"I don't know. He's not talking to me." Tim closed his eyes and rested his chin on his knees.

"Ah." Comprehension flowed down the line. "You're looking for help in understanding Bart."

"Yeah."

Wally sighed. "I wish Max were here. I think he's the only person who ever came close to understanding him at all, to be honest."

"Oh."

"What did Bart say, before he stopped talking to you?"

Maybe he hadn't really thought this through. But...it was for Bart. Tim squeezed his eyes closed even tighter. "He said I'd never brought him flowers, but that he didn't really want flowers."

Wally took a deep breath. "I think we need Linda's help on this one."

"No!" Tim sat up straight. "I think enough people, more than enough people, are involved."

"Look, Bart admires you and he talks about you all the time."

"Oh." He'd had no idea.

"Because of his early life, he sometimes thinks differently than the rest of us, even me or Jay. If you give him some time, I'm sure it'll all work out, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks."

"No problem. Tell Dick I said hi."

"Sure." As he hung up the phone, Tim snorted at the irony of a speedster telling him to wait and be patient. What was he going to do now?

* * *

"Um...Bruce?"

"Don't even think about it."

"Right."

* * *

San Francisco Bay had what the Titans generally agreed were the most beautiful sunsets, but Tim wasn't even seeing this particularly lovely example. He sat on the roof of Titans Tower, wondering what to do.

Behind him, he heard footsteps and he sighed. "Are you here to berate me?"

"No, I'm not." Raven sat down next to him and drew her cloak around her against the brisk breeze.

"Why not? Everyone else has."

A soft chuckle. "Is it so bad that the others know something about you? That they are concerned about your relationship with Bart?"

Tim twitched.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes. Yes, I hate that everyone else is involved." He stopped. "That makes me sound like Batman, doesn't it?"

Raven patted his shoulder. "Maybe a little."

He groaned.

"Are you ready to ask for my help yet?"

From anyone else, that question would have been sarcastic, and it would have put his back up. But from Raven it was sincere and Tim took it seriously.

So far, he'd just managed to embarrass himself, alienate his friends, and make himself miserable. And Bart still wouldn't talk to him. Sighing, he nodded once.

They sat silently and Tim sensed she was giving him a chance to relax, so he took the opportunity to do a few deep breathing exercises.

"Why did you wish to keep your relationship with Bart secret?" Raven asked when Tim's heart had slowed.

He started to answer, stopped, and thought. "I didn't want this. I wanted something between Bart and me."

"And you're accustomed to keeping secrets. Comfortable that way."

"Yes." Tim watched the last red streaks fade into inky blue-black.

"Bart thinks you're ashamed of him."

"What!" He whirled to stare at Raven, who folded her hands. "That's ridiculous!"

In the darkness, her face was nearly invisible beneath her cloak. "Is it? Have you given him a reason to believe otherwise?"

"I..." Tim stared down at the bay, throat tight.

"He believes you don't respect him, you treat him like a child." Raven's quiet voice was sympathetic.

"Then why would he have stayed with me at all?" Surely Raven was wrong.

"He stays because he loves you. And he'll take whatever he can get."

Tim stood and walked away. Arms crossed, hands tucked under, he stared toward the glistening sea of lights that was the city.

"If you do nothing," Raven said, "Bart will return and apologize and things will go on more or less as they were."

"No." Tim shook his head. "How could I take advantage of him that way?"

"Many would."

Tim took a deep breath and pulled his cloak around him. "I'm not them."

"No, you're not," Raven said from just behind him. "You're so much better."

He huffed out a breath, stomach tying itself in knots. How could she say that after how he'd been treating Bart without even realizing it? He should have known. That's what he did, he watched people and figured them out.

"Bart won't blame you."

"What?"

Raven stood beside him, watching a plane take off from the airport. "Explain the misunderstanding and he won't blame you."

Tim shook his head.

Sighing, Raven rubbed her forehead. "For all that I grew up with boys such as Nightwing and Arsenal, sometimes I believe I will never understand men."

Tim held his stomach.

Hands on his shoulders, Raven turned him to face her. "Tell him you're sorry. Tell him how you feel."

"I don't know if I can," he admitted, swallowing once as he stared over her shoulder.

"You can. Remember, I know you. Possibly better than you know yourself." Raven's hands dropped off his shoulders. "We will find Bart for you. We will convince him to come back. You must do the rest."

Tim imagined endless days and years without Bart: long, boring, and very very quiet. It wasn't an appealing idea. "I'll try."

"You'll do fine."

* * *

Tim paced around the conference room, working off nervous energy. Things had to work out.

The door opened and closed, and Tim swallowed once before turning around. Bart stood, uncharacteristically still, just inside the door. "Raven said you wanted to talk to me. And that I should come."

"Bart, I've wanted to talk to you for days." Tim stopped and took a breath. "I wanted to apologize."

"For?"

Well, he didn't expect Bart to make it easy for him. "For taking you for granted." Tim stepped a little closer. "For making you think I was ashamed of you. I didn't mean that. I'm just not used to my personal life being public."

Bart looked down at his shoes. "I know that. I shouldn't have gotten mad about it, I guess."

"It's okay." Tim stood in front of him, close enough to touch. "We should have talked about it. I just assumed you'd go along with what I wanted. That was unfair."

Bart looked up, face drawn. "You treat me like a kid, Tim. Like I'm Impulse again. I'm not and I haven't been for a long time. I grew up and you didn't notice."

"I'll do my best to remember that you're not a kid any more than I am. But you're wrong, I did notice, and I can't believe I never told you how proud I am of you."

"Thank you." Bart still looked unhappy.

"And, uh, I wanted to say," Tim reached out and took Bart's unresisting hand, "that I love you."

A grin spread across Bart's face and he threw himself into Tim's arms. "I love you too and now maybe we can go talk to Wally and Jay because they've been worried about me and, oh no, does this mean I have to talk to Batman?"

Staggering, Tim choked on a laugh. "No, I think Batman would still prefer you stay away."

"Oh good."

--end-- 


End file.
